The Beating Heart
by His Majesty Jareth
Summary: My first and possibly only Holmes and Watson story based loosely on the Holmes and Watson portrayed in Granada's 1984's The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes series Starring Jeremy Brett and David Burke. Dr. John Watson was struggling with being both unspoken Doctor and long time friend of Sherlock Holmes. The current case was irritating Holmes but was it just that or was there more?


(This was inspired out of the blue after watching many many many hours of Jeremy Brett and David Burke and I felt the need to write this as it came smashing into my head. I don't expect anyone to read or like it, it isn't Sherlock, and it isn't the Downy and Law Holmes and Watson movies, it is literally only the portrayed versions of my favorite Holmes and Watson, as done by Brett and Burke.)

Holmes sat in a heavy cloud of tobacco smoke musing with the pipe that outspokenly told Watson, Holmes had a case that was particularly grieving his ever turbulent never not seeking for everything and anything stimuli for his mind.  
Tho Mrs. Hudson had shooed them out earlier so she could spring clean Watson could have just simply thought Holmes was once again very upset with her for cleaning up his continual chaotic work and experimentive places.  
But the pipe told all and he had learned under Holmes continuous tutorials and always did his best to apply Holmes methods as best his creative and care giving mind could. Tho he did not have the cold analytical mindset he was a surgeon and that required precision, patience and skill like no other. So He applied his surgeons mind when he set about using Holmes's methods especially when applied to dealing with Holmes himself.  
John had always been so careful with his patients, his colleagues and of course with Holmes the most. Convincing himself that he was not just friend but was Holmes personal physician as the man most certainly needed constant watch or he would have long died thru his chronic substance indulgences to either inspire or quiet the ever turbulent mind within.  
And today was no different as John watched the man grumble, shift and twitch somewhere between a turbulent meditation and a very agitated frantic series of manic choppy movements of hands to face, hands to hands, wiggling of the knees and fingers pressed on the cheek then leg then cheek again, or steepled when he was either very close or very stumped.  
Finally John stopped pretending to write and he sat at the desk beside the window then turning he looked straight at Holmes and stated rather shortly. "What is it Holmes that has you so irate that even your beloved tobacco is not easing your movements?"  
For the first time since John had been in the main sitting room with him, Holmes actually paused all his movements and took his pipe out of his mouth and half flippantly with a wave of his hand scoffed and stared broodingly at the fireplace, then stood up quickly grabbed one of the more used pokers he so loved using when making a point and began poking with it with a restrained yet forceful jerky movement as he begun to speak voice low and full of irritation.  
"Surely Watson you saw the open envelope on the table by my half eaten toast, what did you surmise using my methods of course to properly evaluate the situation and not miss anything. Tho given the fact the dust is still in the air from Mrs. Hudson's cleaning I did tell her to not dust in my room, but alas she never listens and now there's quite a bit of talcum in the air even with the windows open I'm surprised your still breathing as well as you are."  
On that cue as if by necessity Watson actually coughed but it wasn't from what Holmes had mention but from the type of tobacco that Holmes was smoking only then did John realize he had laced it with one of the liquid painkillers from the medical bag.  
A subtle smile crossed Holmes face as he watched the other man go from complete calm to shock of realization to straight up frustration and indignation over what had been done.  
Watson's reactions were as expected as he stood and berated Holmes for his undesired actions."Holmes! How could you, I administer these to my patients they are not up for anyone to self administer. And they are most certainly not for you to use as you please... we have discussed this! I am rather sore and quite put out at you Sir! If you are determined to used the medicines in my bag then you must commit yourself to me as a patient!" Watson stood up, took his medicine bag and went straight up to his rooms on the next floor then sat at his much smaller writing desk and proceeded to pull out all the bottles so he could see how much of each had been used. Shaking his head he knew he had let Holmes get to him but sometimes the man seem to have no restraint, as he calmed down and looked thru each one he realized only the poppy extract had been used and only a few drops. Now more angry at himself for reacting then at Holmes for setting things up in such a way to make it seem like something it was no where near, he sighed heavily and sat to writing on the case with the young woman cyclist. John had a soft spot for the women who had come to Holmes for help, gentle women of grace, charm and beauty, surely ladies from well do to finishing schools.  
As much as he wished to settle down in the way of all sophisticated men with eventually a wife, his own home and possibly a family. He could never bear to leave Holmes to his own devices so he had put all thoughts of settling down away and contented himself with bachelorhood and of course helping Holmes on his cases. He was always very content in Holmes company even when Holmes was being undignified but John was finding himself more and more lonely even in the company of his closest and most dearest friend.  
Putting back in all the vials in their compartments he closed the bag and placed in softly on the floor besides himself. He was tired and even tho it was hardly even supper time John Watson put himself to bed, even had he had patients to see or other requirements of his time he knew better then most that a tired body echoed a very tired mind. And John found himself to be very tired...very tired indeed. He took one glance at his schedule book and then jotted a quick note to Mrs. Hudson requesting she not make him supper and that he truly needed to be able to rest his weary self then left that on the bronzed breakfast tray he placed right outside the door of his rooms. Watson was always so meticulous about his surroundings and did his best to keep himself and his rooms very sterile and very organized. In fact he was responsible for all the the organization of every one of Holmes cases that Holmes had taken on up to this point, a system to which Holmes mocked but was secretly very glad for tho he would never tell Watson of such. Sometimes John wondered if he really did Holmes any good, today was one of those days. Smiling sadly to himself he settled down into the bed and closed his eyes willing himself to rest and not think on anything else Holmes might or might not be doing. He needed to rest his mind and that is just what he set his mind to doing as he heard Holmes yelling loudly for the housekeeper once more.


End file.
